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I Just Want to Go Home (standard:other, 1661 words)
Author: QuinnAdded: Aug 27 2001Views/Reads: 2936/1987Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This story is about a young black girl. She is a slave and is traveling on a boat to another land that she doesn't know of. She is coming from her homeland and doesn't know English or what is even going on. It is written in a Diary type form.
 



I havenít seen sunlight in days. The rocking of the boat makes me sick
in the stomach and the smell of putrid bile and waste have made my 
stomach heave more than once. You might say I was lucky to be on this 
boat instead of dead by a horrible death. Now I am not so sure. Other 
pages of my book were lost and ripped away somewhere. Iím sad to say it 
though. I will have no memories of other happier times. I at least 
snuck it on, so I have something. 

We eat rock hard biscuits that are dusty and molded. That is when we are
fed at all, if even that much food. Spiders and flies, and other 
unidentifiable creatures are what I always feel crawling on me or 
flying past. Every night I can hear the rodents scurry around me, if 
they arenít going over me. I hear hard heavy boots and loud rough 
voices, but I donít know the language they speak. Up there is where the 
sunshine is. The warm rays and fresh pure air, unlike the mustiness of 
the air I breathe now. I see Tishka staring at me. I know him from my 
village. Or what is left of it. I like him, and I hope he likes me too. 
He might just want to steal my bread. 

In the dark we are all the same deep black color. But in the light
Tishka is handsome. I wish he thought I was pretty. Despite my bald 
head. Our shaved heads keep us from getting lice. But down here in this 
disgusting filth hole, you would be lucky if that was all you caught. 

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ 

I talked to Tishka today. He is kind and sweet. The thick chains around
my ankles rub my skin raw. Itís red and infected, but as long as I have 
my friend Tishka I wonít worry. A promise of light comes from his lips 
every time I wake up crying and frightened. Heís there for me when I 
feel sick and I will be there when he needs me. For now, I will rest on 
my straw that still smells from nights before. Then again what down 
here doesnít stink? My name is Haithati. 

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ 

I feel sick. I feel as if I am always ill. Tishka stays by my side
always. Though he wretches in the night. We must be in a storm for 
waves so rough. No food or water for three days makes me grow weak. And 
what there is to drink, is disgusting and defiled. Bugs are always 
around me and filth is like a second skin, because we do not get any 
washing water. I must lie down and rest. I will write again soon. 
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ 

Finally the storm has stopped. I cannot find Tishka. He must have moved
to another part of the boat while I was asleep. It is very large space 
down here since there are so many of us. I am starving because they 
never throw enough food down here for all of us. Luckily I am quick and 
alert. I get my share quickly, snatching and snapping at others like an 
animal. Then I crawl back to my space and eat. One time there wasnít 
any food at all thrown down here for a long time. I saw a girl catch a 
beetle and eat it. It was repulsive. Would I ever have to eat beetles 
and such to stay alive? I hope I donít have to find out. 
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ 

Light! Oh it hurt my eyes at first sighting, but the extraordinary glow!


The fresh air that came from above! I am so thankful for fresh air that
I breathe right now. I fill my lungs up until they feel as though they 
will burst. I never want to breathe the rank smell of the air I 
formerly breathed. I think death is the smell that was around me. Or 
was it the dead bodies in dark corners rotting away. I donít want to 
know... 

Haithati
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ 

I am downhearted today. I donít think I can go on. I saw them toss a
slave body over the boat today, and I havenít seen Tishka in many days. 
Could it have been him? No, he was strong in spirit and wouldnít leave 
me to fight alone. More things to worry about. Sickness. It has taken 
over many of us down here. I am grateful that there is more food and 
water. Not much, but it is a little more fresh. All I can do is stay to 
myself and wait for Tishka. Poor, sweet Tishka, you will see the sun 


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